


Russian Roulette

by technin



Series: Detroit: Become Human [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Connor Deserves Happiness, Father-Son Relationship, Hank Anderson Swears, Parent Hank Anderson, Poor Connor, Self-Destruction, Suicide Attempt, Sumo is a fucking hero, Sumo is best dog, Worried Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-06 21:04:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17352560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technin/pseuds/technin
Summary: Click.Nothing.Click.Nothing.Click.Nothing.Click.Bang.Connor deals with his emotions the only way he was "taught". And that is by Hanks infamous game of Russian Roulette.





	Russian Roulette

The third night in a row. Connor couldn't help but muse at himself. Undoubtedly, he can admit he hasn't been himself. Recently, he's been suppressing the urge to hold the cool, heavy metal object in his hand. Today, he gave into his suppression.

The cold and slightly rusted revolver that he had to hide from Hank fit scarily perfect in his hand. It felt right to him. Connor gazed at the gun in his hand, then flicked open the chamber, staring at the lone bullet in the bottom slot.

**_Estimated time until Lieutenant Anderson arrives: 00:46:55_ **

**_Estimated time until Lieutenant Anderson arrives: 00:46:54_ **

**_Estimated time until Lieutenant Anderson arrives: 00:46:53_ **

Connor could surely try Hank's game of "Russian Roulette". To his knowledge, it is a way of coping with strong emotions that you can't handle. And to Connor, he certainly feels that way.

Hearing the faint clicking against tiled floor made him look over. Sumo stared over to Connor, his big eyes falling onto the gun in his hand, almost knowing what was going on. He gave out a soft whimper and leaned his head onto Connor's legs that were stretched out against the bathroom floor. "Hello, Sumo," he quietly greeted, slightly reaching over and scratching behind the dog's ear.

"I apologize, you probably don't like this gun," Connor mumbled, looking back to the revolver. "Hank used it a lot, right?" A soft whimper was his response. Connor breathed out a small chuckle. "Is this how humans deal with emotions? Playing life or death?" He softly asked, looking back over to the dog, but then sighed. "Of course, both of us don't know the answer to that, unfortunately. I.. am simply a machine." He muttered, then brought his free hand and spun the chamber and flicked it back into place.

**_Bullet located in the bottom of the chamber._ **

**_Fourth shot will fire the bullet._ **

Connor gently moved the gun towards him and moved the nuzzle against the bottom of his chin, despite the small whimpers of protest from Sumo. "One.." 

Click.

Nothing.

Connor glanced over to Sump who picked his head up. He could feel the glare from the dog. The judging stare. Or maybe it was a concerned one rather than judging. Maybe Sumo didn't want to see Connor blow his system out.

But that's just one living being. He's sure Hank has been annoyed with him. Ever since Connor's disinterest in talking to him, Hank has taken up drinking again.

Click.

Nothing.

**_Stress Level: 65%^_ **

If Connor knew a much simpler approach on how to deal with these.. feelings, he would certainly take it. Whenever he tried pre-constructing possible approaches, more than half of then simply gave "self-destruct". Other responses had low possibilities of a good outcome. 

Connor was dreading the moment where Hank's disinterest gaze turned into one of anger and would throw him out.

Click.

Nothing.

Connor blinked before looking back down to the revolver. He's sure the next shot will kill him.

**_Estimated time until Lieutenant Anderson arrives: 00:30:01_ **

**_Estimated time until Lieutenant Anderson arrives: 00:30:00_ **

**_Estimated time until Lieutenant Anderson arrives: 00:29:59_ **

Had he been doing those three shots for that much time? Nonetheless, he had little under half an hour. It was more than enough time.

Connor effortlessly reached over to Sumo and pet him once again. "I'm quite sure this one will kill me." He mumbled to the dog, preparing him for the next few minutes. "Maybe you should go into the other room? I wouldn't want to have you watch." Sumo didn't move and neither did Connor for the moment.

The Android sighed, pulled his hand back, gazing at the gun once again.

**_Current Task: Self-destruct._ **

**_Probability of success: 98%_ **

It was still a high number, much to Connor's satisfaction.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned his head back and moved the nuzzle back under his chin, feeling the cold metal against his skin.

**_Stress Level: 71%^_ **

His thirium pump pumped too loudly for his liking, like time began to slowly down for him, the pump matching up with the seconds passing by. He moved his finger to the trigger and gently began to push it back, ignoring the slightly movement in the corner of his eye.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, relaxing into the wall and letting go the unknown breath he was holding, then..

Bang.

A loud clang erupted through the bathroom along with the sound of glass shattering.

Connor couldn't feel the gun in his hand anymore, he didn't feel a barren hole in his chin, he felt the cold tile against his back, against his head, infact, he felt a soft throb coming from the back of his head. There wasn't blue on the wall he was leaning against..

_He was still alive._

**_Stress Level: 79%^_ **

He inhaled largely and looked up to the source of disruption.

Sumo stood there, half-on top of his body. For the first time in forever, Connor couldn't simply process this.

Sumo barked loudly and dove to the gun, picking up the handle in his mouth and ran out of the room with it. Then he heard the front door slam open.

"Connor?!"

Connor couldn't help but give out a soft sigh at the loud footsteps coming to the bathroom. He lazily swung his arm over his eyes, blocking what's rest of the light in the bathroom. "Fucking, fuck, Connor!" He heard Hank's shoes against the tiles then was yanked up by Hank who continuesly kept cursing. 

He was practically slammed against the bathroom wall and from the corner of his vision saw Hank crouch down in front of him. However, he moved his gaze away, refusing to meet his partners eyes. "Connor, what the fuck are you thinking?! What the fuck are you doing?"

Four.

Connor didn't respond, he moved his head back, letting it softly bump into the wall behind him. "Connor, you better fucking answer me right fucking now."

Six.

Connor turned his head, meeting Hank's stiff gaze. He couldn't simply just say he was playing a game. He's aware Hank heard the gun go off, he's certain he heard the light bulb shatter too. He glanced over to the doorway to see Sumo standing there, gun still in his mouth, then gently dropped it, getting a thump once it clashed with the floor.

"I was simply dealing with my new found emotions." Connor responded, surprisingly calm enough. But that seemed to set Hank off even more. "So, you decided to fucking shoot yourself to "deal with emotions"?!"

Seven.

Connor moved his gaze to Hank's, meeting his eyes. Then his eyes narrowed slightly. "That is what you have done, is it not?" Connor asked, almost innocently enough to make Hank want to smash his own head in. Despite that, he noticed how the older man stiffened. "You have tried to shoot yourself before simply because you couldn't deal with your emotions," he began, then glanced over to the gun. "And since these emotions are new to me, I simply don't know how to deal with them. So I decided to do what I learned from you." He explained.

Hank blinked at Connor's calm explanation, slowly he moved back and sat against the floor, his hands finding it's way to his face and simply held his head there. "Connor," he lifted his head up, taking a deep breath. "If you don't know how to deal with all of these emotions rushing at 'cha, just fucking tell me, okay? I don't care if it's three in the fucking morning. Tell. Me. I don't want you blowing your fucking brains out."

Ten.

"And don't, and I fucking mean don't," Hank pointed to him. "Ever fucking copy what I do, got it?!"

Twelve.

"Do I make myself clear?"

Connor nodded, looking down to his hands. Hank exhaled loudly, and began to slowly stand up. "Let's go," he muttered, kicking Connor's shoe lightly and looked over to the glass on the floor. "Go where?"

"My room, you're doing your weird power down thingy there. I don't want you alone."

Connor opened his mouth to argue, which Hank noticed, but before he could say or do anything, Connor closed it. "Alright." He muttered, standing up from the bathroom floor.

Hank walked out of the room with Connor behind him, but then turned to the living room. "Before that, I'm calling Fowler. You're not going to work tomorrow." Connor blinked, glancing over to the revolver on the floor in front of the bathroom.

"Are you using this circumstance to your advantage on not going to work on a Saturday morning?" Connor asked, looking back over to Hank who looked at him like he was insane. 

"Are you fucking kidding me, kid? I'm not fucking like that." Hank slammed his hand on the phone and began pressing buttons. "I don't take suicide as a fucking joke, alright?" Connor nodded.

Fifteen.

"But Hank, I am simply a machine, suicide for Android's don't matter."

Hank narrowed his eyes, moving the phone away from his hear and pointed to him again. "Don't you fucking say that. Android or not. I'm not taking you almost shooting your fucking brains out as a joke."

"Systems, I do not have a brain."

"Connor, please." 

Connor moved his hands behind his back and clasped them together as Hank moved the phone back and immediately began talking on the phone.

Twenty.

Hank swore three more times on the phone before hanging up.

Connor glanced off to the side.

_I think that's a new record._

**Author's Note:**

> Lol, sorry for like, the shitty end. Well, shitty story in general.
> 
> And the end tho, it was like, such a serious topic and Connor is over here joking in his damn mind.
> 
> I'mma fucking sleep now lol


End file.
